


Spirits

by edan_marie



Category: Yu-Gi-Oh!
Genre: Gen, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Referenced Genocide
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-25
Updated: 2014-07-25
Packaged: 2018-02-10 09:43:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,858
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2020302
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/edan_marie/pseuds/edan_marie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After following the hype in Britain over the recent film remake, Ryou decides to read 'The Woman in Black'. But in doing so he uncovers not only heartbreaking memories, but also a terrible secret from Bakura's past.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Spirits

Late August. The afternoon was gently slipping into evening, the sun’s blazing heat cooling to a soft, soothing warmth. Citizens of Domino City were beginning to settle in for the end of the day and, in his small, lonely apartment, Ryou Bakura was about to read. His father had left perhaps two hours ago, after a brief visit back from London where he had presented his latest archaeological findings to an assembly of keen university students. He’d brought a gift back for Ryou; a short novel called _The Woman In Black _.__ Ryou’s father had never quite understood his son’s obsession with ghosts and the occult, and a part of him worried that feeding the obsession with the book would only make matters worse.

But Ryou, who had been eagerly following the hype in the UK over the recent film remake of the book, was determined to read it. And so now he sat on his bed, lights comfortably dimmed, and his eyes alight with anticipation. He started to open the book but, before he could begin reading, a voice stopped him.

 _‘Host.’_ Ryou ignored that low voice in the back of his head, irritated and determined not to respond to the interruption. He flicked to the first page of the book, when his hands froze abruptly, locked into place.

 _‘Host!’_ The voice was louder now, more insistent. Ryou sighed.

“What?” He asked, preferring to speak rather than aim his thoughts directly at the spirit. In his first few years with the spirit, he had communicated through his thoughts, and he had been forced to learn the hard way how much access it gave the spirit to his deeper thoughts and feelings.

 _‘What is that?’_ The spirit asked him, gesturing to the book clutched in Ryou’s hands. The motion felt wooden under the spirit’s control, and Ryou struggled against the trapped sensation that was aroused whenever the spirit snatched control of his body. The spirit was strong, though, and eventually Ryou was forced to give up.

“It’s called a book, Bakura.” He retorted, and Bakura snarled. He dropped the book, one hand moving to snatch at Ryou’s other wrist. The grip was tight enough to tear a whimper out from Ryou’s mouth, and his triumphant feeling vanished as quickly as it had come. The bones in Ryou’s wrist ground agonizingly against each other, and Ryou swallowed down his tears as he whispered a rushed, desperate apology to the enraged spirit.

 _‘I know it is a book, you impudent brat. What is its title?’_ The spirit demanded, and Ryou bit back his surprise at Bakura’s curiosity. Why was Bakura interested in the title of the book he was reading?

 _‘My patience is running thin, host.’_ Bakura warned him, tightening his hold on Ryou’s wrist threateningly. Ryou, unable to bear the pain any longer, knew he had no choice. He had to do as the spirit told him.

“I-It’s _The Woman In Black_ , Bakura.” Ryou stammered, and in his head, Bakura snorted with his derision.

 _‘The book of the film you’ve been obsessing over for months? And here I thought there was a limit to how pathetic you could get.’_ The cutting remark stung Ryou, but he ignored it. With fresh determination he wrenched his hand free from Bakura’s iron grip, taking advantage of the spirit’s momentary shock to snatch at the Millennium Ring that hung around his neck. It began to glow angrily as Bakura’s shock turned to outrage.

 _‘Don’t you dare!’_ The yell was like a hammer blow against Ryou’s skull. He clutched at his head, dropping the Millennium Ring back against his chest as Bakura’s exclamation echoed painfully in his mind. The laughter, cruel and grating that followed, only intensified the pain. Ryou had never felt pain like this before. Bakura often resorted to physical violence, but he had never assaulted his mind. Ryou was defenceless to this new agony, unable to escape the torturous laughter ringing in his ears that made his head feel as though it was about to split open from the pain.

“One day… one day I’ll get rid of you.” He whispered, as much to convince himself as Bakura. He sensed only scorn from the spirit, a harsh disbelief.

 _‘I’ll find you again.’_ Bakura replied, but Ryou didn’t let himself feel afraid. Bakura was confined to the Millennium Ring. Ryou was not.

“Then I’ll get rid of you again. As many times as it takes.” Ryou’s resolve faltered somewhat as he spoke, the anger emanating from the ancient spirit chilling him to the core. The Ring glowed brighter, the metal burning Ryou’s fingers as a wavering shape began to take form beside him. He recoiled from the sight of Bakura, who sneered and curled his ghostly fingers tightly in Ryou’s hair. His head was yanked forward, until Bakura’s burning red eyes filled his vision.

 _‘You cannot run forever.’_ The ancient spirit spat. Ryou knew the spirit’s words were true; all the same, he was in no mood to give up. Perhaps he could not run from Bakura forever, but that did not mean he couldn’t fight back. Ryou turned resolutely back to his book, determined to pay the spirit not even a moment more of his attention.

 _‘Don’t ignore me.’_ The menacing tone should have frightened Ryou, but he knew from experience that Bakura wouldn’t waste his energy on him. In a ghostly form, Bakura often tired quickly and was forced to return to the Millennium Ring. As long as Bakura chose not to take control of Ryou’s body again, Ryou knew he was at least somewhat safe. With this in mind, he began to read.

He quickly lost himself in his book, sucked into the eerie world of Crythin Gifford. As the daylight hours slowly slipped into night, Ryou almost began to regret not waiting until tomorrow to read, but once he had started reading, he couldn’t stop. As he’d expected, Bakura eventually lost interest in trying to torment him, and more than once Ryou caught Bakura peering over his shoulder to read a page. In truth, it did seem more than a little discomfitting that Bakura appeared to share his interest in ghosts and the occult, though he forced himself to push aside the nagging curiousity to find out what else they shared. As far as Ryou was concerned, the less similarities he had with Bakura, the better.

As Ryou read more of the book, and the woman in black’s attacks became more frequent, Ryou became aware of a shift in Bakura’s feelings. Ryou detected… what? Sympathy? Understanding? It was unlike Bakura to support the hero in any situation, and yet Bakura’s feelings only grew stronger as Ryou read on. He began to sense hatred mixing with Bakura’s sympathy, and now Ryou started to doubt the target of Bakura’s understanding. He reached out to Bakura in his mind, hardly daring to believe what he was doing. Was he actually _choosing_ to communicate with the spirit? Bakura shied away from the sudden mental contact, a fierce glare twisting his harsh features.

 _‘I am in no mood to talk, host.’_ He snarled, but Ryou was not to be put off. He reached for Bakura’s mind again, catching a glimpse of angry, scattered thoughts a split second before Bakura punched him viciously in the chest. Pain overshadowed shock at the sudden violence, agony shooting through Ryou with every breath. He held Bakura’s thoughts in his mind, though, as a new kind of shock chilled his blood when he finally grasped their meaning.

“You- you feel sorry for _her_?!” Ryou wheezed, as he looked incredulously at Bakura. The spirit’s shape had lost some of its definition, the colour faded as his burst of violence weakened him. He only glared at Ryou, not saying a word. The silence stretched out between them as Ryou recovered his breath, and he sat up to meet the spirit’s cold eyes. He silently gathered his thoughts together, not letting the spirit’s piercing stare frighten him in the slightest.

“I know you’ve never been a particularly nice person, Bakura. But you can’t possibly condone the things she does.” Ryou spoke but Bakura looked enraged. His blood red eyes burned with centuries of fury and hate, and his lips were twisted into a scornful sneer.

 _‘And what has she done?’_ He demanded. Ryou matched Bakura’s glare with one of his own, anger growing. Hadn’t Bakura been reading the book?

“She murders innocent children. They never did anything to her, and she still killed them! It’s despicable!” Ryou answered in a fury, and Bakura yanked Ryou forward by a tuft of his hair. Ryou gave a yelp of alarm at the movement, flinching away from the spirit, but he was only dragged closer again relentlessly. There was a malicious glitter in the spirit’s eyes, and a bitter snarl replacing his sneer.

 _‘Funny how everyone thinks so differently of the Pharaoh for doing exactly the same thing!’_ He spat, icy cold breath ghosting over Ryou’s face and sending a shudder down the boy’s spine. There was fury in the spirit's eyes, a volatile rage, and Ryou didn’t dare speak.

 _‘My people were slaughtered, when I was still barely a child! All of my family, all of my friends- murdered! So the Pharaoh could have his pretty little collection of Millennium Items! You read that book, and you despise that woman for mourning the one person she loved the most! You say I’ve destroyed your life, but you know nothing about grief!’_ There was pain hidden underneath the spirit’s words, an age-old agony nearly eclipsing the indignant fury in his eyes. But Ryou was oblivious, as he tore free of the spirit’s grip with his eyes blazing. He shoved at Bakura, looking down on him in disgust.

“I know nothing of grief? Before you stole my life, I already knew the grief of losing someone I loved! I was a _child_ when my sister Amane and my mother died! I was a _child_ when my father all but abandoned me to his work! My life had already been destroyed long before I ever met you!” Ryou’s voice trembled with a mix of rage and agony, tears blurring his vision of the watching spirit. The moment that he’d spoken Amane’s name, he had seen her, smiling in his mind's eye and choking him, shattering him. Nine years, five psychiatrists, and it took only one smile to break him.

Bakura, having no idea of the flood of memories but seeing clearly the heartbreak on Ryou’s face, only sneered up at the young boy.

 _‘If you really know so much grief, then how dare you sit here and hate that woman? How dare you try and stop me from getting the revenge I deserve on the Pharaoh for destroying my life?!’_ Anger had darkened Bakura’s blood red eyes so much so that they were almost black, his breaths shuddering and some poison fury thrumming through his bones. It was a frightening sight to behold, but Ryou ignored it, forcing aside the guilty feeling growing in his heart as he retaliated angrily.

“I have never killed an innocent child! I have never wished someone dead!” Bakura only laughed at Ryou’s fierce words.

 _‘Is that so?’_ Ryou nodded, but the spirit was not yet finished. He twisted Ryou around to face the windows looking out on the darkening street below, and pointed down at the two people hurriedly walking past the block of flats. When he looked closer, Ryou recognized the two, a young woman and her daughter who lived close to him. At once Ryou felt a familiar jolt of anger and grief beginning to stir inside him as he looked down at their wide, carefree grins. Bakura, sensing Ryou’s new emotions, smirked with satisfaction.

_‘Tell me honestly when you look at those people that you don’t wish they were dead instead of your sister and mother. Tell me honestly that you don’t hate them simply for being alive.’_

Ryou could not. The more he watched the mother and her child, the angrier he felt with them. It sickened him to know that the spirit was right, and yet at the same time he could not bring himself to take back all of the vicious thoughts he’d had about the two. They had done nothing wrong- they were in truth the closest thing Ryou had to friends on this street- but there was no denying the bitter loathing Ryou felt whenever he saw them. Why should they be allowed to live such wonderful, happy lives, when Ryou’s sister and mother were lying in graves on the other side of the country? Why did they deserve to live when Amane and his mother had been taken from Ryou long before their time?

With great difficulty, Ryou tore his eyes away from the window. Hating innocent strangers would never bring back the people he’d lost, and he needed to accept that.

But would Bakura?

Ryou opened his mouth to speak, but Bakura cut in before he could say a word.

 _‘Don’t even dare to think that you can change me, host. Yes, I am a thief. Yes, I have tortured and killed many people. But don’t you dare presume that that means my revenge is not justified, or my grief not as strong as yours. You still have a place to visit the ones you’ve lost. All I have is_ this.’ As he spoke, Bakura plucked the Millennium Ring away from Ryou’s chest, who looked confusedly down at the gleaming gold metal.

 _‘Do you understand now, the sacrifice my people made? Do you understand why I want all seven Millennium Items so badly? Not just for their power! They are all I have left of my family and friends, and I want them back!’_ The spirit hissed, and all at once, Ryou felt a terrible ache of sorrow in his heart. How could such a thing possibly be true? Ryou searched the spirit’s eyes, but there was no deception to be seen.

“Bakura… I had no idea-”

 _‘I don’t want your pity!’_ Bakura interrupted him suddenly, his voice indignant. _‘Your pity means nothing to me. All I desire is for you to know that the Pharaoh is not the perfect hero you like to see him as.’_ Ryou flinched at the interruption, and he was not wholly convinced by the furious words that the spirit threw at him. There was a harsh loneliness behind the spirit’s vicious words; a desperate need for support that he could not quite hide. When Ryou’s eyes flickered down, he could see the spirit’s hand still tightly gripping the Millennium Ring, and almost half unaware of the movement, Ryou lifted one hand to touch the surface of the metal. Bakura stiffened, perhaps expecting Ryou to try and remove the Ring, but Ryou did no such thing. Instead he gently closed one hand over Bakura’s, forcing himself not to recoil from the icy feel of the spirit’s skin. He felt cold like stone, yet Ryou could still feel Bakura’s steady pulse under his fingers, impossible yet there and racing, and the humming energy of the Millennium Ring beneath his fingers. Bakura still made no move to pull away. There was a heavy silence, neither boy sure of how to continue.

Eventually, Ryou found the courage to speak to the spirit.

“I’m not going to lie to you. You’ve done so many horrible things, even if it is just to get your family back. You’re nasty, and cruel, and for most of the time I honestly cannot stand you. But…” This was where Ryou struggled to continue, turning reluctant as he neared his point. The spirit looked steadily more insulted with every word Ryou said, but he was too intrigued to interrupt the boy. He only watched as Ryou took a deep, calming breath, before he continued.

“But I’m not going to let you suffer on your own.” Ryou finished in a rush, as though afraid he’d change his mind if he hesitated too long. He watched Bakura warily for a response, but the spirit was too stunned to speak. He searched his mind for some kind of scathing remark, but there was only a sickeningly strong sense of gratitude. The spirit jerked away from Ryou, and a heartbeat later he had vanished. Ryou was left clutching the Millennium Ring, brooding over Bakura’s reaction. There was a lingering sense of regret in Ryou’s mind, and he began to wonder if he had just made a big mistake. For a split second, he had seen the sudden relief in the spirit’s eyes, the sudden hope, before his terrible anger. It would be next to impossible to get through to Bakura like that again- but then, Ryou couldn’t just give up and not even bother trying.

Ryou sighed. His next confrontation with the spirit would be a difficult one, and all he could do now was wait for Bakura to show his face again. He glanced towards the open book left abandoned beside him, then pushed it aside. He’d had more than enough of angry, vengeful spirits for one day.


End file.
